


You've got time

by Pure_oblivion



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017), Riverdale (TV 2017) RPF
Genre: Cheryl Blossom Needs a Hug, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, F/F, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I basically threw in a bunch of riverdale characters into the oitnb world, I have no plan and no idea how this will turn out or where it will go so bear with me, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lesbian Cheryl Blossom, Racism, Sexism, Stan Choni, Toni Topaz Backstory, Toni Topaz Needs a Hug, Violence, and idk how i will make this work, anyway, choni, important issues explored, our girl Toni has a backstory and it is sad, some original characters will be introduced too ??, sorry for the trash writing i just got the idea and had to do something with it!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-07-30 17:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20100763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pure_oblivion/pseuds/Pure_oblivion
Summary: Convicted for a crime she didn't commit, Cheryl Blossom battles through hardships of prison life, all the while running into a girl who may change her life, *enter Toni Topaz*akamy medicore attempt at a OITNB/ prison au where Choni meetAND TONI HAS A BACKSTORY





	1. Orange On Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it me. I have NO PLAN for this and NO IDEA where it will go, I just suddenly got the idea to throw riverdale into OITNB and that is that! 
> 
> I do, however, have small ideas and all I need to do is develop them, but hopefully this turns into something.  
Toni has a backstory, ah I do have a plan for that! 
> 
> Thank you for clicking, and do read if you want (:
> 
> I HAVENT FINISHED THE FINAL SEASON OF OITNB YET WOW

It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t do anything, didn’t harm anyone--but that didn’t matter anymore. Her truth fell on deaf ears just mere moments ago. Hearing her name in the same sentence as an assault charge didn’t come as a shock, she knew that the St. Clair boy would find a way to ruin her life after she didn’t give in. After he tried to-

Cheryl swallowed the thought down harshly, the feeling of his rough hands trailing further up her thigh still present despite the solid hour she had spent in the shower trying to wash it all off by scratching at her pale skin endlessly, turning it red. 

She barely even touched him- right after Nick had left her sobbing on the floor of the hotel. 

“Up you get, Miss Blossom,” The officer who’d entered her holding cell spoke up. 

Cheryl did as she was told, feeling like compliance was the only option that would keep her head above the water, “Already? But, I haven’t got anything with me, I-”

“I assure you, you won’t need anything at all. The less you have on you, the better, believe me.” 

The look that rested upon the man’s face silenced Cheryl. It appeared as if this was his daily routine, people attacking him with questions and he’d repeat the very same answers. 

Nothing goes into the prison. Just you. 

She had spend the majority of her transportation there in complete silence. Her mind was flooded with questions, practically drowning in them, but her throat felt so dry and tight that simply no words could be uttered despite how badly she wanted to know where she’d end up. 

She was innocent. 

Cheryl Blossom didn’t harm _him_. Not like that. Not how he harmed her. 

He tried to-

He plotted it all against her, Cheryl wasn’t allowed to speak her truth just because the Saint Clair boy had dirty, blood money. 

And he didn’t let her walk free simply because he couldn’t get her. 

As the small van came to a stop, gravel crushing beneath its heavy tires, the redhead cast her eyes towards the window, staring at the facility right in front of her. 

And It finally hit her. The harsh reality that she’d now have to live in had finally entered her mind process. 

She was simply and utterly so _numb_. 

Empty. 

Whatever it was, it wasn’t happiness. 

She felt a void inside of her, as if though her chest contained nothing, her heart simply empty until it began feeling heavy at the sight of the prison. 

This was no dream, it was no nightmare either.

This was her life, one she’d have to accept. 

One she’d have to live in for a year. 

And at the age of 20, Cheryl Blossom’s life came crashing down upon her, the weight she’d carried for years finally getting too ponderous to hold. 

Years and years of endless torment, eventually made her knees break. 

She didn’t think it would be this way--couldn’t even image it. 

A year, surrounded by thugs and criminals…Cheryl couldn’t do this, not when she wasn’t even guilty. It all began to dawn upon her. The future she was going to have in this life…it was scarred, trashed and marked in the most untrue way possible. 

This record would follow her everywhere she’d step into. That assault charge she was found guilty of wouldn’t just disappear, it would follow her forever, sticking to her like glue. 

But to see her mother’s twisted face in that crowd, standing next to the Saint Clair boy and his parents, looking at the judge with the most profound look she could muster…it hurt. 

Because she wasn’t putting on that look to protect her own daughter, but rather the boy. 

The boy who almost--who was going to-- 

Her own mother sided with the monster who was going to hurt her. 

It didn’t come as a surprise, however. Cheryl knew that her mother was out to always wound her -whether it was physically or mentally didn’t matter-, constantly searching for buttons to push that would send the redhead into an emotional spiral inside of her mind, one which would damage her further and further. 

She tried to be good, God, she tried. 

For her mother’s sake, to feel something other than distilled hate. 

Just a bit of adoration and warmth. That’s all Cheryl wanted. Yet, it was something she never got. 

Instead, Penelope Blossom stood there, face wrenched as she stared at the judge and stated that her daughter ‘was always a threat. An emotionally unstable child, who needed to be corrected’. 

And there she was; red, fiery hair all tangled as her foot touched the gravel, her weight making it crunch beneath her feet. 

Her pale body looked small compared to the facility in front of her.

And the orange suit…inviting prying eyes. 

Cheryl Blossom pled not guilty, yet somehow, in some way, she was found guilty due to the act of self defence.

She had told the judge he hurt her, laid his meaty hands on her body without consent, but ‘the lack of evidence’ meant she couldn’t do much. Her truth fell on deaf years . 

Nicholas, however, strode into the trial with bruises on his face, scratch marks littered across his face, a black eye screwing his eyelid shut. 

It had looked bad-as if she did this.

But that wasn’t true, just like she had insisted in front of the judge. 

The only thing Cheryl did remember doing despite her shattered memories, was scratching his face in a despairing attempt to get him off her body, to stop him from grabbing her in places he shouldn’t be. 

The rest of his injuries…it wasn’t her. 

But the redhead could add two and two together . 

Of course Nick had made himself look worse for wear, anything to get the judge and jury to believe him. 

And so she was found guilty. 

An assault charge stamped on her name for the rest of her meaningless life. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, inmate,” 

Cheryl froze, dark eyes widening at the term of endearment the man used, “The name is Cheryl,” She attempted to correct, but the officer chuckled silently and shook his head, as if though this was some sort of an amusing activity. 

“Not here it isn’t, _inmate_.”

_Cheryl Blossom, found guilty of assault against Nicholas Saint Clair_

She couldn’t remember crying then, nor could she remember pleading up until now. 

The redhead dropped to her knees, shaking her head from side to side furiously in obvious denial, “Please, please you don’t understand- I’m not guilty-I didn’t touch him- Please, you have to help me!” Her throat soon turned raw, hurting her within every word that she uttered out. 

But it had no impact. It appeared as if though she was saying nothing, because the guard failed to acknowledge anything.

He paid attention to nothing except her disobedience. 

“Off the floor now, Miss Blossom!” 

And that was probably the last time Cheryl would hear her last name. 

She was no longer a person according to the system and the rest of society…

Cheryl Blossom was now a convict, clothed in an orange jumpsuit. 

Forced by a strong grip around her arm into the Riverside correctional facility as she wept and begged for another trial. 

A fair one. 

But deep inside she knew that it was something she wasn’t going to get. 

Her mind couldn’t process being dragged inside, hushed voices drowned out by the loud ringing in her ears, vision blurred by the hot tears streaming down her pale yet reddened cheeks. 

A crowd of unfamiliar faces soon circled her, Cheryl’s gaze barely keeping up as the girls of the prison looked her up and down like a piece of meat, each one of them wearing a different expression. 

Excitement, surprise, boredom, curiosity, while the others were just…empty. Dull. 

Having seen the very same scene hundreds of times before. 

Strands of black, blonde, red, and pink hair invaded her vision every time she turned to face a different direction, each lock of hair belonging to a different head, some appearing more friendlier than others. 

Cheryl wasn’t here to make friends. 

She was here to serve her time, or somehow get out. Because she was not guilty. 

And they should know it. Acknowledge it. 

“Oh, it’s a clean one!” A voice yelled from somewhere within the intimidating crowd. 

And the last thing Cheryl saw before she was dragged away by the officer was yet another girl, dyed pink hair which was slowly fading resting atop of her head, brown eyes staring at her in a way that didn’t scream insults or threats, but rather calmness. 

All communicated in silence before she broke it. 

“Welcome to Riverside.”


	2. Disturbing Division

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, I don't really have a set updating schedule as I'm busy quite a lot of the time, but I hope you still read and enjoy :) I will try updating at least once a week,

Cheryl pressed her body against the cold sheets while her eyes remained pried open. She could see the night’s sky outside, wishing so badly that she could just inhale it and feel the various smells encircling her, whether it was smoke or the scent of flowers didn’t matter. 

All she wished for right now was to be outside, to breathe that air, to step foot wherever she wanted. Just to open her window and listen to the flying birds, or the speeding cars, or even the wind beating down the leaves in her garden. 

Hearing her mother’s cruel insults would even be Cheryl’s top pick than staying here. 

Instead of being able to hear all that she’d imagined, she was buried deep in the sound of snores and sniffling-some other new girls joining her in the journey of crying on their first night here. 

She didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t utter a single word to any other inmate who had talked to her, asked for her name or what she was in for. 

For the first time in her hopeless life, Cheryl Blossom couldn’t do the very thing that she always did best. 

She could no longer talk. The redhead was silenced, and cruelly so, by her very own mind, and the fear that came with her when she was dumped here in this hell against her will. 

The redhead no longer knew how to slyly craft her sentences, or how to throw clever words that didn’t always make sense to everyone into her speech. 

If she couldn’t do that, _what_ could she do? 

The question didn’t need to be answered by Cheryl’s mind, her body did that automatically, because her eyes produced another load of tears, her raw throat squeezing itself until she could barely take a breath. 

She couldn’t remember the time of night when her eyes began to close and when she finally drifted away to her slumber, the exhaustion winning over her very conscious thoughts of staying safe. 

She was sharing a room with criminals after all, all of which made small conversations with each other before going to sleep, clearly having formed some sort of respectful schedule. 

But the next time Cheryl forcefully opened her eyes due to the deep, manly voice just above her face, it was already bright, sun rays powering their way through the windows covered with metal bars to ensure that the means of escape were impossible through this route. 

“Up and at em’, inmate. We don’t slack around here.” The correctional officer informed as Cheryl’s orbs scanned for his name tag, quickly catching a glimpse of the name FP Jones, which surely had to stand for something. 

Not wanting to cause a commotion, the redhead stopped herself from asking everything she had wanted to, and pushed herself up from the bed, heart instantly beating against her ribcage as realisation washed over her once again. 

“Since you came in late yesterday, you’re getting a tour this morning before breakfast is on. I’ll explain how things work around here, but ah, don’t take my word for everything. The girl’s here work in their own ways.” He motioned for the redhead to get up, and she complied, her thoughts twisting around the officers very last few words. 

What did that even mean, work in their own ways?

Was there no sense of order?

Didn’t the officers control everything? 

_It’s a private prison, Cheryl. People do what they want.___

_ _“You’ll be assigned to a place of work very soon, there are a few options but they’re limited, of course. Electrical, laundry, gardening, the kitchen, and what’s a prison without janitorial work, hm?” _ _

_ _“Do I get to pick?” She asked very cautiously. The least she wanted right now was to land on some sort of safe work, one which wouldn’t involve much talking, so the kitchen was definitely out of question even though she could work an oven and produce some great meals. _ _

_ _FP stopped, and made a turn of 180 degrees to face her, an amusing look coating his softening features before his eyes practically undressed her, “Seeing as you are so keen…”_ _

_ _Cheryl felt sick as her lips fell to a flat line. She wanted to disappear, somewhere far from these prying eyes of his. _ _

_ _He was a damn correctional officer, and to think that she expected some sort of professionalism…_ _

_ _“No.” It felt like a sharp slap to the face. _ _

_ _A swift punch to the gut. _ _

_ _“The laundry is short of staff, inmate, we need to fill the position.” The man finished and evened out his shirt as he stared at the dumbfounded girl, “That a problem?” _ _

_ _Gulping to relieve her dry throat in some way, Cheryl shook her head, knowing better than to meet the consequences of disobedience. Worst of all, she didn’t know what they were, she wasn’t sure what sort of punishment the criminals here had to endure if a case of bad behaviour broke out. _ _

_ _Surely, it wasn’t pleasant. _ _

_ _The room was still filled with sleeping inmates as she left, following FP through various parts of the prison. The chapel, hair salon, diversion room, the yard, visitation room -a place she was sure she would never have to visit- and the cafeteria. _ _

_ _She was shown around the library not too long after the tour, and a sense of relief rushed over her as her eyes practically stuck to the books, knowing that this was a place of calmness, which was just what she needed._ _

_ _After having witnessed the bathrooms, where there was an evident lack of privacy due to the ripped shower curtains and broken stall doors, Cheryl wanted to go home. _ _

_ _Her body had gone through another turmoil, and FP dragged her out of the shower room, told-ordered her to get herself back on track because this was how every day was going to go. _ _

_ _“You lived a privileged life, but this isn’t the case here. Criminals don’t deserve rights. Forget all about your privilege and pick yourself up before you live a lot worse. You should’ve thought about this place before committing the crime.” FP appeared to be bored, but Cheryl couldn’t take it. _ _

_ _She couldn’t handle the false accusations any further. _ _

_ _“I didn’t do it to him! I barely touched him, he planted this all against me because-”_ _

_ _FP sighed, eyes drooping, “Yeah yeah, that’s what they all say. ‘It wasn’t me, I shouldn’t be here’. When in reality, you are just where you need to be. And it’s where you’ll be until you serve your time.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, “All you have on your hands is time. Make the best of it, don’t make any enemies, it gets ugly sometimes.” _ _

_ _“What do you mean-” Cheryl’s words were drowned out by the sudden noise of footsteps coming from behind her, a pack of girls approaching her direction, half of them bored, while the other half excited. _ _

_ _“Breakfast time. Follow them, and get whatever they serve down your stomach. You’ll need it.”_ _

_ _And that was the last thing the dark haired man said before turning around and leaving her to fend for herself. _ _

_ _She felt like a lone wolf in a cage full of other, much stronger creatures who could surely tear her to pieces if that’s what they so much as wanted. _ _

_ _One wrong look and she could end up with a black eye. _ _

_ _One wrong word and she could have a shard sticking out of her neck. _ _

_ _There were so many dangers and possibilities she simply wasn’t ready for despite having gone through abuse her entire life. She’d wake up with bruises littering her face and body from where her mother had touched her skin, marked it permanently in ways she wanted to forget. During some days, Cheryl began to accept that her body was an empty canvas, and it needed to be filled with more bruises and cuts until it was full. Because what was a painting worth without any paint and marks? It was simply empty. But she didn’t want any more paint to be spread onto her canvas, the image her mother aspired to paint was one of suffering and torment. Cheryl Blossom was no masterpiece. _ _

_ _Nothing but a failure. _ _

_ _Because if she was good, she would have been _something_ instead of ending up in here. _ _

_ _ _Nothing but worthless, Cheryl. Mother was always right._ _ _

_ _The Blossom girl had always thought how good it would be to just simply disintegrate. _ _

_ _And now she wished for it more than even before. It seemed like the breaking point. _ _

_ _“Hey, watch it!” A voice boomed as the redhead’s shoulder collided with another, snapping her out of the blurry thoughts. _ _

_ _Cheryl’s eyes snapped open wider, and she realized it was the pink haired girl who ‘welcomed’ her to the prison just yesterday. _ _

_ _“Oh.” With features softening as she turned around, the shorter girl began to shake her head, “sorry, I didn’t realise you were one of the new ones.” _ _

_ _Dark brown eyes stood in front of her, observing the orange jumpsuit on her pale skin in utter curiosity. And unlike all the other eyes she had encountered so far today, these ones seemed almost _friendly_, even hospitable. _ _

_ _Cheryl was sure that was a rarity in prison. _ _

_ _“The name’s T-”_ _

_ _“Toni, move up!” The woman serving the food barked in annoyance, not wanting the rest of the queue to get held up. _ _

_ _“Toni…” The pink haired girl finished and was evidently frustrated, “see you around…?”_ _

_ _Cheryl stood there, dazed for a while, the warm that the girl was emitting clearly watching her off guard as this was a prison after all. _ _

_ _And good company was least one would expect. _ _

_ _Realising that Toni was still waiting to get to know her name, she shook her head, cheeks burning up almost immediately, “Cheryl.”_ _

_ _A small laugh escaped the shorter convict as she picked up the food tray, “Alright, Cheryl. See you around.” _ _

_ _“Y-yeah…” Nodding as Toni walked away, Cheryl stepped forward and cautiously took the tray that was handed to her quite harshly, the convicts clearly working around the clock to serve everyone was fast as possible. _ _

_ _As soon as she was out of the way, her heart sunk down to her stomach, a physical pain erupting all over her chest as her gaze wandered around the cafeteria, which was all filled up and no tables were empty. _ _

_ _Cheryl continued to observe, trying to learn all sorts of unspoken rules that hid within the prison. _ _

_ _And there was rule number one. _ _

_ _Division. _ _

_ _No unity. _ _

_ _The women were all divided. _ _

_ _It wasn’t age that split them apart, nor was it ability…but race. _ _

_ _All into four evident parts. _ _

_ _Cheryl took a few steps forward, attempting to go unnoticed as she walked towards the back, already knowing that she’d have to comply with rule number one despite the fact that she found it disturbing. _ _

_ _But reality, in fact was always distressing, and never pleasant. Not once in her life has it been that way, that Cheryl was appealed in the way her mornings started and her nights ended. _ _

_ _And when she finally spotted an empty table in the very corner, she was prepared to bolt towards it until a single hand stopped her, waving at her from the distance in a motion that told her to come over. _ _

_ _It wasn’t Toni’s, but rather a blonde’s. _ _

_ _“Hey, you’re new?” The woman questioned, her tone almost friendly, but not in a way that Toni’s was. _ _

_ _Cheryl nodded and the woman clapped joyfully before motioning for the other girl at the table to move up a seat, freeing it up for her. _ _

_ _“Sit.” The older woman instructed, and the redhead knew it definitely wasn’t a request by the way the blonde’s eyes dug into her own. _ _

_ _But she complied, not having any other company to join right now. _ _

_ _“My name is Penny, let me introduce you to all of my girls.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think so far! Comments are always appreciated :)


	3. The Cause Of Distortion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER; Betty and Cheryl aren't related!! Jason and Polly were also never a thing! Happy reading lol I almost broke my foot today

There were far too many names, but the ones that really stuck with her were Penny and Betty as the two girls had struck up a conversation the most. 

Nobody really shared the reasons behind their convictions, which was a terrifying thought. Cheryl didn’t know those girls, nor did they know her. They all seemed quite welcoming, and maybe, by some chance, her year here wouldn’t be _that_ bad. 

It was her first real day here, and to think that she’d begin to make friends as soon as that sounded like a false statement, yet it was coming true. 

Penny welcomed her with open arms, sat her down and introduced her to every single girl around the table. The woman had referred to the girls as her family, her tongue sharply emphasizing the word, obviously implying that they all stuck together. What they shared as a group wasn’t to be spread elsewhere. 

And that was the end of the so-called breakfast. It wasn’t much and it certainly wasn’t what she would eat, but the redhead didn’t dare complain, seeing as it was the inmates who worked in the kitchen and not the actual prison staff. 

Next thing she knew, she was following FP Jones once again, listening to him ramble about her new job position in the laundry department. 

“You’ll wash and fold the clothes of the inmates and correctional officers. It’s a lot of uniforms per day, so don’t get discouraged, inmate. A small group of women will work with you, best make friends.” 

The laundry room was just ahead so FP turned around on his heel, motioning for her to go in and begin working the morning shift. 

Having no other choice but no abide by these rules for a year, Cheryl stepped inside, a wave of worry and anxiety clasping at her. 

She could remember being the confident girl, trusting her fiery hair to be a distraction every where she went. Cheryl could recall being talkative, and maybe too much so, yet right now she was far from it, as if though she had never learnt how to speak. 

Fear. 

That’s all it was. 

Cheryl was never a fearful one, no other thing scared her more than her own parents did, and she was still reckless, just bound to take risks. But here, she feared things she never did before; people she didn’t know. 

She used to have her own way with words in the outside world, playing with them until she got what her heart desired. Words were not dangerous, but in prison, one could be lethal. And so she remained quiet upon her entrance to the laundry room, having no idea if her whole year was to be spent here. 

There were four girls in the decently-sized room, washing machines and boxes for clothes taking up most of the dull space around them. 

Pink hair, brown eyes, a pearly smile. 

It was Toni. 

For reasons unknown, the redhead’s heart felt a sense of solace, easing her body of most of the anxiousness.  
The girl was a total stranger, all Cheryl knew was her name, and yet somehow, without an explanation ,she felt at ease around her. 

It had to be due to the friendliness Toni was shrouded in, the calmness her body language emitted, the welcoming image her brown orbs reflected. And that pink hair, so in contrast with the wearisome walls of the prison. 

Toni Topaz radiated a different sort of energy than the rest of the prison women. 

At least to Cheryl. 

However, despite what her heart was telling her, the redhead knew staying cautious was an obvious requirement. This was prison; a space filled with merciless criminals. 

Inhaling sharply, she walked over to the empty table where a bunch of clothes were packed into a box. As she got nearer, the smell was horrid, reeking of utter trash and lack of hygiene. 

“Better start cleaning.” One of the women suggested, and not in a friendly manner, that was clear. 

Cheryl sighed, forcing herself to stop from rolling her eyes, which out in the real world, was a very common thing she did even without meaning it. But here, such a simple action could cause much more than a verbal argument, that she knew. 

Despite that, this didn’t mean that the women here got to order her around, and treat her like this. After suffering worse mistreatment at the hands of her own mother, Cheryl had enough. This wasn’t going to continue, not in here, not by someone she didn’t even know or acknowledge until now. 

“What do you think I’m here to do?” The redhead snapped back, and the whole room lapsed into a standstill. 

She wasn’t sure why she said it. Anger was one of the reasons, but Cheryl was also sure that her mind was way too eager to test the waters here. 

In no way did she want to absorb any more mistreatment, but fighting back was one way to check and understand if she wouldn’t have to face any insults, or if she’d just have to suck them up and keep them to herself until the very day she got released. 

With a scoff under her breath and a clear shake of her head, the black haired girl walked around the table, her olive skin way too close for comfort to Cheryl’s own, “What I think you’re here to do is wash the damn clothes like we are. You think you’re here to stand around? Not in prison, baby. The quicker you learn the rules, the better.” 

Cheryl took a well-measured step back, not wanting any trouble. She had just tested the waters, and it wasn’t in her favour. 

She’d just have to take it all. 

God, she’d have to stay silenced once again-

“In fact, why don’t you start with my pile, hmm?” The woman motioned towards her own unfinished, scattered work. 

This was shameful-

_Cheryl, do it. Just do it…_

“Anya, come on, she’s new!” It was Toni, causing her once more to inhale a breath of relief, which instantly soothed her mind. 

Anya paid no attention, wrapping her hand around Cheryl’s elbow and pulling her closer, so close, that the woman’s lips brushed against her red hair once she spoke. 

“You play by the rules here. Not the prison rules, but _our_ rules. You hear me?” 

Nodding, Cheryl knew she had no other choice. 

God this was so-

“Hey, you fucking owe me, come on! That favour I did a few weeks ago, Anya, remember that?” Toni came around this time, practically forcing her small frame between the two women, wanting nothing more than to pry them apart. 

“Whatever, just telling her how shit works around here.” Anya huffed and walked back to her station, wasting no time and unloading the dirty clothes from the boxes. 

Toni was quiet for a few moments, before she leaned in close, “You have to watch what you say, red. People remember things here way too well, talk spreads faster than you can imagine.” 

And with that, she was back by her station, Toni’s presumably friend staring at the pink haired girl as if though she was insane. 

“What was that all about, you know her or something?” Valerie asked, and Toni shook her head, staring at Cheryl for longer than necessary as the redhead mumbled a small thank you and turned around to face her station. 

“No, it’s business. P needs customers, doesn’t she? Best have them on our good side.” 

A few minutes later, Betty stepped into the laundry room, and Cheryl turned around, facing her surprised. 

“You’re assigned here?” The blonde gave a small grin as Cheryl nodded in reply, “We’re together now, I guess.” 

The redhead was more than glad that Betty seemed like a friendly, honest face. Sure, she had no idea what Betty had done to get in here, but a friend was what she needed right now. And due to the circumstances that Cheryl was in right now, the blonde seemed like the best candidate. 

So did Toni. Yet that element of division between inmates separated them, and she didn’t want to be the outcast who would cause conflict. Therefore, she had to stick around where she _belonged_. 

A burst of laughter behind Cheryl caused her to turn around. And what a sight it was. Toni Topaz laughing alongside the other girl, swinging the baggy clothes around as they tried to hit each other playfully, faces scrunching from the foul smell. 

Betty shook her head and tried to suppress her own silly laughter, “Toni and Valerie are always up to something. It isn’t as dull here as you’d expect.” The blonde then directed her gaze towards Anya, “Can’t say the same for that one though.”

“I’m aware.” Cheryl swallowed thickly and kept her head down, having learned a valuable lesson. Challenging other inmates wasn’t worth it, she’d simply have to take whatever they through at her, and that was it. Couldn’t be worse than her own mother, could it? By now, nasty insults were almost a daily part of her routine, though they did still tug at her heartstrings, sometimes making her feel sick. The words her mother threw at her were one of the causes behind her tears, there were other things too, of course, much worse that she went through, but it still didn’t make it right. 

Without a warning, a loud ringing of a bell echoed throughout the laundry room, piercing Cheryl’s ears as she gripped her head in eager attempts to stop the pain. 

“Fuck!” 

The rest of the girl’s dropped to the floor as Betty grabbed her by the arm roughly, tugging her down with a thud. 

“What’s going on?” Cheryl still held her head as her gaze wandered around the room, her heartbeat accelerating once more as anxiety roamed through her body. 

Betty closed her eyes, the loud ringing taking its toll, “They’re doing a check for something. It’s like an emergency bell. Someone might have tried to escape, though I have no idea.”

Her brown eyes instantly widened. 

Escape? 

Sure, it was a minimum security prison, but was taking that sort of risk worth it?

“On the ground, now!” A booming voice practically shook the room. FP Jones burst inside, observing every single one of them cautiously, and Betty visibly winced at the sight of him, signs of disgust lacing her features. 

It was obvious that the man wasn’t liked, and Cheryl could tell why. She hadn’t even been here for a week, and he was already undressing her with his eyes so openly, no sense of shame in his actions. 

“Pat down, ladies! Line up!”

“Come on.” Betty whispered, motioning for the redhead to get up on her feet and line up against the wall. 

With a heavy breath, Cheryl turned around and placed her hands against the wall, bracing herself for whatever was to come as FP Jones began patting Valerie down, and the way the girl tensed beneath his touch was no way a good sign.

“Clean, get back to work, inmate.” 

Valeria released an audible breath of air, and another wave of discomfort filled the room soon after. 

“What was the bell for?” It was Toni’s voice that caught Cheryl’s attention. 

“A mobile phone was found. Just doing a sweep, inmate. You don’t want extra time on your sentence now, do you?” 

Toni shook her head, pink hair gracefully falling against her back as she did so, “No, and it won’t happen. I’m clean.” 

“We’ll see about that.” His hands worked up from her feet, to her calves, then thighs, finally reaching for her hips and waist, “Turn around.” 

Having no other option that to obey, Toni turned on her heels, facing the CO with a straight face, staring daggers into his eyes. 

FP’s hands continued, sliding beneath her breasts as Toni tensed up, but allowed the search to happen because in here, her voice meant less than nothing. 

Her word held no significance at all. Especially against a CO. 

“All good, inmate. Walk on.” 

Toni moved back to her space without so much as a look at the man, simply obeying by his orders as an inmate should. 

As FP handled Anya, Cheryl turned to Betty, shaking her head in protest against this. 

“I-I can’t--”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Betty advised, as FP now moved to her, patting her from head to toe, searching for whatever was considered illegal contraband here in the prison. 

A few moments later, and the officer announced that the blonde was good to go, having found nothing on her. 

“Face the wall, inmate.” He instructed, and Cheryl couldn’t help but visibly shake as his hands moved forward and he crouched, patting down her slender legs. 

“S-sir I-” Her quivering voice was cut short as FP sighed.

“I didn’t ask for commentary, so face the wall and be quiet or have you got something to hide?” 

Shaking her head, streaks of tears began to battle their way through her eyes, rolling down her pale cheeks without so much as a single sound, “N-no but…”

As FP’s gloved palms wandered closer to her thighs, all Cheryl could see and feel was _him_. 

Nicholas. Touching her when she stated she was in no mood for this, and then continuing despite her evident protests. 

And when she had told him no…that was the final straw. But Cheryl didn’t feel him stop. His hands only travelled farther up her clothed body, and she was disgusted at herself for letting it get that far…

Her throat only released a sob when he pushed her against the mattress, yelling at him that she didn’t feel a single ounce of what her mother had told him. 

Cheryl didn’t love him, nor did she feel the slightest spark when their lips collided on the dance floor just mere moments ago. 

She felt nothing. And Nick being Nick…he just couldn’t take it. It felt like an insult to him, but the redhead had enough.

She could no longer pretend, especially not when Nicholas was ready to take it to the next step. And so she lay, screaming until her throat was raw that she didn’t want him while his body was pressing her down to the mattress, his hands working on the zip of her black skirt. 

A stop to it wasn’t coming unless she truly did something, that was clear. 

And then, Cheryl Blossom acted. A single slap was enough to snap him out of it, but not enough to end the torment he was yet to put her through. 

The next day, Nick lied, and she ended up here, trapped in an orange jumpsuit and touched by another man, feeling the exact same revulsion she did when Nicholas touched her. 

Yet this time, she couldn’t act out. 

_Just take it in silence._

Cheryl had managed to blur it all out, merely hearing his distant voice ordering her to get back to work. 

FP appeared less than pleased with her antics when her eyes finally decided to acknowledge him again, “Do as you’re told. Next time I won’t be so gentle.” With a final glance back, he left, causing every woman in the room to sigh out in comfort, and it was seconds before the tension practically vanished. 

Hours of cheap labour passed, and knowing that she was earning a few cents per hour didn’t ease her mind. This wasn’t what she was used to at all; Cheryl had lived a life with no financial difficulties until recently, but despite that, she still had a comfortable bed to sleep on and a table full of finest food. 

Her mother might have taken a less than honourable job, but the redhead still lived a financially comfortable life. That, however, didn’t mean that her life was all smiles and no clouds, because it simply wasn’t. 

It was quite the opposite. 

And while she was left dwelling in thoughts such as these, lunch arrived and went on without a hitch. Once again, Cheryl was invited to join Penny and the rest, poking at her food in silence as they discussed something that clearly wasn’t for her ears to hear judging by the way they were whispering. 

And just when she thought that maybe, this moment of calmness would last, the mere thought was crushed right from under her fingertips. 

Because in front of the cafeteria, stood a girl in an orange jump suit, silencing their whole table, not a whisper escaping any single woman until Penny broke the silence with a voice that practically screamed the word massacre.

“I will fucking kill her.” 

To think that Betty was a serene person was an understatement as the look that currently hid beneath her eyes was murderous, portraying a whole other image than what she had shown Cheryl hours ago. 

“We,” The blonde corrected, “We will kill her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? feelings? emotions?


	4. Trouble On The Left, Trouble On The Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, i'm back, sorry for the lack of updates again, life is just gnarly often! Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I want to thank everyone for positive comments on this, it truly means a lot! :)

The return of Josephine McCoy made the air almost unbearable. Cheryl didn’t know the girl, but as soon as she caught glimpse of the shift in everyone’s eyes around her, the redhead felt at threat. 

The ‘new’ woman marched past every table in the cafeteria only to come to a halt in front of the one at the very corner. Toni Topaz’s face was buried in shock and puzzlement as she stood up alongside Valerie and some other girls, greeting Josie with a smile or a look of excitement. Each reaction varied greatly, and the girl seemed to hold an evident amount of respect from what the redhead could gather. 

The way everyone steered clear from her path as she made her grand entrance into the cafeteria said all Cheryl needed to know: stay away.

“I will put something through her fucking throat.” Penny warned, eyes following Josie as if though they were glued to her by some magical force. 

Another girl, going by the name of Eden nodded in agreement, indicating that she had no problem at all performing the same act that would end someone’s life. 

Suddenly, Cheryl felt sick to her stomach, bile rising to her throat unexpectedly, forcing the contents of her lunch up, but somehow, she managed to hold it down, up until she forced her way through a bunch of other girls who were yet to receive their lunch. 

Upon reaching the toilet stall which luckily contained a lockable door, Cheryl dropped to her knees, fiery hair swinging over her shoulder as she hunched herself over the toilet, releasing the contents of her stomach. It wasn’t much, and once it was empty, she leaned back with a heave, chest rising and falling rapidly, her body submerging itself into another state of hysteria as she let out a sob.

She didn’t mean to tangle her hands in her hair like this, but at that specific moment, it felt like the most sane thing to do. 

Because everything was far from it.

Everything in here was fucking deranged. 

Groups. Division. Weapons. Contraband. Murder. 

Out of all the options out there, she ended up with the people who probably had some sort of involvement in _all_of those things. 

They were planning on hurting someone. And there was no way they’d leave her out of it, not after she heard all of those threats. 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck-_

She couldn’t afford spending more time here, she wasn’t guilty and was imprisoned for something she didn’t actually do-

Cheryl couldn’t go down for something she didn’t want to do. 

She couldn’t…

Her Nana was out there, with her mother who was far from a compassionate human being. 

_I can’t do this, I can’t do this-_

Cheryl wasn’t going to hurt anyone. She’d made her mind up. This wasn’t her fight. If Penny had something against Josie, it was her job to deal with it, but the redhead refused.  
It took about ten more minutes before Cheryl could stand on her own two feet again. Flushing the toilet, she opened the stall and wished for nothing more but to go back there, and experience it all over again. 

Penny stood right by the sink, leaning back against it with a small grin. It wasn’t unwelcoming, but the redhead didn’t feel at ease either with the blonde’s presence right there, the words that escaped her throat still echoing in Cheryl’s mind. 

“Was there a problem at lunch, Cheryl?” Penny asked softly as she stepped forward and placed her hand against the pale arm with such gentleness, that the tall girl almost felt at bliss. 

Naive was the word some people would describe her as sometimes, and that was the exact word that could be used to explain her face right now as she attempted to decipher the tone Penny was putting on. Was it one of genuine concern, or just a false act? 

_Maybe if I was honest with her, she wouldn’t involve me?_

Cheryl was still on Penny’s good books, there was no reason why she shouldn’t try to get out of this, right?

She’d heard the phrase that honestly was the best policy numerous times, but this was jail, and she, Cheryl Blossom, was frightened.

_Be honest. It’s not too late._

And before she could stop herself, the words were already out, her mind admiring its moments of safety way too much. 

“I don’t want any part in this.”

Penny folded her arms over her chest while raising a single brow, “In what?” 

She hesitated, but knew that it had to be done in order to avoid trouble. 

_It’s okay, Cheryl. Just let her know how you feel until it isn’t too late._

“In whatever it is that you’re doing. If you want me to move tables during lunch, I can do that. If you don’t want me to talk to you, consider it done too.”

Whatever it took, she wanted to avoid trouble. In no way did she mean to offend Penny, she just wanted out of there before she was in it too deep. 

Penny’s eyes softened instantly as she uncrossed her arms, painting a less intimidating version of herself within seconds, “Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m not gonna make you move just because you want no part in this.” 

Whatever she just heard, Cheryl assumed it was a part of her imagination, but when the blonde repeated herself, she simply couldn’t believe it. 

Maybe she was right…maybe honesty was indeed the best way to go in here and in the outside world.

“Really?” 

And when Penny nodded in confirmation, Cheryl closed her eyes in relief before uttering a bunch of thank you’s, truly wanting to express her gratitude because the women seemed so understanding. 

“Of course, Red. We are family now. We look out for one another.” 

Footsteps invaded their space before any more words could be exchanged, and a female CO approached the two women, eyes focused on the redhead. 

“There you are. I was told you’re ready to be moved to cell block A, go collect your stuff.” 

Penny flashed a smile, patting Cheryl’s shoulder in what seemed to be her way of congratulations, “Welcome to the Suburbs, kid.” 

XXXXX

Cell block A felt like a whole other world. Instead of sharing a room with 4 people like she did on her first night here…there were around 20 more women running around, minding their own business, or upholding hushed conversations with someone else. 

Either way, it wasn’t exactly what Cheryl thought a prison would be. 

She expected and hoped for more privacy than half a wall separating ‘room’ from ‘room’. But prison stripped one away from all privileged. 

People received privileges and rights. In here, however, they weren’t human, they were criminals and convicts…getting what they deserved. 

“You’ll be bunked with Effie.” The female CO announced, and upon noticing Cheryl’s look of worry she shrugged, “She usually keeps to herself. No trouble at all from what we know.” 

_And what about all the things you don’t know?_

Again, it was as if though she was stuffed into a corner. She had no choice but to move the way she was told.

So she did. With her pillow clutched tightly in her hand, and a toothbrush in another, Cheryl hesitantly stepped into the small space right at the upper corner of the room.

“Uhm-Hi, I’m Cheryl. Cheryl Blossom.” 

The woman-Effie looked up from her book and snapped it shut. 

“Assuming you already know my name, how about we go over some ground rules that we both keep, hmm? How does that sound?” 

Cheryl knew it was no request nor was it an offer. She was going to get to her point regardless if the redhead approved of it or not. 

Being met with silence, Effie nodded, “Good. You don’t interrupt me, and I don’t interrupt you.” Her brown eyes observed Cheryl quietly, and when the redhead finally decided to nod in agreement, she opened the book once again, eyes instantly returning to the wording within the pages.

Questions flooded her mind, and certainly not the good kind. 

She still wasn’t entirely sure how things worked around here, but clearly her new room mate was in no mood to explain, so Cheryl didn’t push, the desire to experience what she did with Anya didn’t spark her interest not one bit. 

With a heavy breath that finally relieved some pressure from her chest, Cheryl perched herself onto the bed, sitting down without saying another word, but when she caught glimpse of Effie’s eyes staring into her own, the pale girl raised a brow innocently, not wanting to be the one to break the silence first in case that was something she wasn’t meant to do. 

She was just following unsaid rules, that was all. 

“What?” Cheryl managed to huff out after hearing Effie mumble something, the brunette’s voice far too drowned out by her own thoughts. 

“I said you’re a Blossom, aren’t you?” 

Blinking a few times, the redhead hesitantly nodded, “Yeah, how did you know?” It surely didn’t come as a surprise to Cheryl, because her family was indeed involved in a lot of controversies around the town of Riverdale, and most people wanted nothing more than to keep their distance, to be somewhere far away from the Blossom bloodline. 

“I’ve seen you around town before, and your family never fails to make newspaper headlines. Whether it’s the talks of money or crime.” Effie shrugged, dark eyes glued back to the book. 

Gritting her teeth, Cheryl could do nothing else but nod in agreement, because it was the ugly, utter truth. 

Just a few years ago, Jason’s name was littered all across the local newspaper, the boy’s lively eyes staring back at her as she read about his very own murder…

Those lively eyes, which Cheryl knew were dead, void of any existence. 

And just when she thought that maybe, her family was done with its mentions in the paper, her father was next, a photo of him and his dark, love-deprived eyes digging daggers into her skin. Cheryl had thrown that paper down in anger, red nails digging into the weak material as she tore it apart, until his face was no more, because Clifford Blossom was no human, he didn’t deserve a face, he was a murderer, who should have rotted away in a cell, seeing four walls for the remainder of his life and nothing else. 

Yet instead, the monster decided to cheat the system, taking his own life instead before the law enforcement could get to him. 

Her own twin, the only person who had shown her any element of love, taken away from her by the person who laid his hands on her, marked her skin in ways her mother did too. Clifford cut the young boy’s life short when he was just sixteen. Jason strived to be a good man, and was on his way to becoming one by attempting to escape their father’s clutches. 

After having refused to be the next in line for Clifford’s drug empire, Jason made a run for it. Of course, the Blossom man couldn’t risk it, and ended up putting a bullet through his son’s head just to keep himself afloat, alive, and free. 

Cheryl felt like none of those things. 

Her brother was dead. 

And maybe, she was next in line. 

Surely, she was still breathing. But did she feel alive? 

She didn’t want to once…but that didn’t go in her favour, nothing ever does. 

Sometimes, when the redhead shuts her eyes, she can still feel the sharp, icy water digging into her sides, prickling her skin and squeezing at her bones until she feels a crushing sensation at her chest. And she was so incredibly close, until warm arms wrapped around her, pulling her out. 

It was a total stranger, and fate had deprived Cheryl of the chance to ask for the man’s name as she was drifting in and out of consciousness, before the dark finally claimed her, which she hoped was for the last time. 

Yet there she was, sitting on a sturdy bed with her legs crossed tight, not knowing what her life would look like tomorrow, or the day after that. 

In her mind before she arrived here, the redhead imagined all her days being exactly the same, but two days in and her newly found _family_were talking about murdering someone, and she was on the brink of being involved in all of that chaos. 

It was all too much. 

Cheryl wiped her watering eyes with the back of her hand and stood up before heading for the bathroom, passing all the guards and inmates in silence. 

The bathroom was empty, and she was more than grateful for the first sensation of privacy she had gotten in two days. 

The openness of everything was getting overwhelming. The redhead was used to her very own space, but that privilege no longer existed here, it was gone, and she had 12 months until she would get it back. 

Twisting the tap open, Cheryl didn’t hesitate to dunk her hands under the lukewarm water, splashing some of it onto her face in order to ease her nerves. 

_12 months, Cheryl. 12 months._

Shouldn’t she at least try to prove her innocence? Sure, she hit him once, but it wasn’t her who turned Nick’s face into a complete mess. The redhead could remember delivering a single slap to his twisted features in order to get him to stop…that was all. 

She didn’t deserve to be in here…

Life had already given her many sticks in the wheels before this…did she really deserve more? 

“Lights out in an hour ladies!” A voice yelled, and Cheryl figured that it was the best time to go pick up her stuff and get herself properly cleaned up. 

She was never really used to routine. 

She had control over when she’d go to sleep, when she’d wake up, when she’d brush her hair and teeth. But now, someone else was in charge, and the redhead wasn’t too fond of that. 

She no longer had control over her own _life_. 

It had always seemed like her life was spiralling out of control, but at least she could still be in charge of some aspects of it before she landed in this hell hole. 

Now? There was no saying yes or no. 

Choice didn’t exist. 

With a bite to her lip to snap herself out of it all, Cheryl headed back to her assigned cell block and stopped upon reaching her cubicle, eyes scanning the area in search for something. 

A pair of shuffling steps behind her huffed, “Aren’t you gonna let me into my own bed?” Effie squeezed past her as Cheryl mumbled out an apology while swearing to herself that the last place she saw her toothpaste in was on her pillow. 

“You didn’t happen to see my toothpaste, did you?” 

With a furrow of her brows, Effie shook her head, “This is prison, Blossom. Stuff goes missing all the time, you have to be on a constant look out.” 

God, how could she be that naive? 

Of course, she was practically a fresh piece of meat here. She didn’t know how things worked in prison, but in the least, she should have known not to leave anything out in the open like that…

These girls were deprived of everything. 

Any opportunity to grab something, they were going to take it…

Cheryl closed her eyes shut, a heavy breath leaving her chest as she sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. 

She was now a convicted criminal, but she was never going to deprive herself of the much needed hygiene every person should have a right to. 

With a groan, Cheryl turned on her heel and clutched her toothbrush tight between her fingers, searching for a familiar face as she strode across the cell block, her figure appearing small and frail, so in contrast to the rest of the women, who seemed more than comfortable with their places here. 

Her feet came to a halt right across Betty’s cubicle, but the blonde’s bed was empty, so she turned around, squinting until she caught glimpse of Penny’s eyes staring at her, the woman then cracking an inviting. 

“Hey.” The redhead greeted, voice quiet and her shoulders slack. 

“You look a little worse for wear.” The blonde noted, and Cheryl bit her lip. 

“I was wondering if I could borrow something. Someone took hold of my toothpaste…” 

“Oh.” Penny nodded as she turned around and opened up her locker before reaching inside and pulling out a used tube of toothpaste, “Sure thing, red. Anything you need.” 

“Thank you, Penny.” 

And with that, she was off to the bathroom, which was already crowding up, all the women wanting to clean themselves up before the lights went out. 

Cheryl managed to squeeze past to a sink with ease, muttering a few apologies as she did so. 

“Come on, ladies! Let’s go, let’s go!” One of the female correctional officers yelled, rushing some of the women out as Cheryl continued to brush her teeth, taking down mental notes on how quickly everything went. 

There was no time to waste in prison, everything was limited, much like their movement was restricted.  
She’d have to leave her shower for tomorrow. 

“Okay inmates, we want you all outside of your bunks now. Once you’ve dried up, move it.”

Cheryl was escorted back to her block alongside a few other inmates, each one of them standing outside of their bunks, a look of boredom littered across their faces, until one of Penny’s girls ran to the older blonde woman in a panicky manner, the redhead watching them both curiously. 

And when Penny’s eyes landed on her, Cheryl felt obliged to look down, too frightened to even stare at the woman for too long despite being told that they were on good terms, and as she had put it…’a family’. 

Before she could cast her dark eyes back up, the fragile-looking, brunette girl was right in front of her, invading her privacy by pressing their bodies so close together, Cheryl could barely breathe. 

“Penny said you used some of her toothpaste.” Blythe muttered with a small smile, before her wide eyes suddenly turned cold, the redhead soon feeling a cold piece of metal pressing against her palm roughly.

“Take it, do whatever you want with it, the guards are doing more than a head count, though.” And with that uttered, Blythe was gone, running back to her bunk a few meters down and Cheryl finally dared to look down at the piece of aluminium that was forced into her hand. 

Releasing a gasp, Cheryl eyed the phone cautiously, her chest growing tight, and palms so sweaty as if though she was holding something hot that would burn her skin.

“Okay, inmates!Everyone get outside of your bunks! Stand front again the wall!” 

She had a fucking phone. 

Right in her very own, shaky palms. 

Just as Effie exited the bunk, the woman caught glimpse of the redhead’s distraught features, “You saw a ghost or something?” She asked, noticing that the Blossom was paler than usual. 

Cheryl said nothing, her voice caught in her throat as her orbs remained glued to Penny, who only smirked at her, before mouthing in silence, “I expect that back after the sweep.” 

Fuck. 

_Fuck fuck fuck-_

The phone…it’s illegal. It’s contraband. 

If this was found on her…

God, she didn’t want to think about the consequences…because an extended prison sentence was just around the corner. 

“You must be fucking with me right now, Blossom.” Effie broke the coat of silence once more, looking at the phone with raised brows before looking back up at the guards, who were patting down all the girls individually and messing up a variety of bunks in search for exactly something like _this._

The dark haired woman gripped her tightly, pulling their bodies close as the CO’s approached their bunk, only two or three girls behind. 

“What the fuck?” Effie hissed in her ear, causing Cheryl to cower in obvious fear, her pale body shaking beyond control. 

“I-I…she-she just gave it to me...”

“Well, did you take anything from her?” Effie questioned, and at first, Cheryl shook her head in denial, before it finally hit her…

Oh, God..

“I borrowed some toothpaste…” There it was. 

How could she have been so stupid…

And moments later, Effie finally reminded her of one of the most important unspoken rules of prison. 

“You burrow something in prison, you pay back twice or even four times more of what you fucking borrowed!” She hissed as the redhead trembled further, on the verge of passing out or doing something really stupid. 

Tears pricked at her eyes, as she held the phone behind her back, knowing that there was no way she could hide it in her side of the bunk. 

All of the beds were being flipped inside out by the CO’s, not a spot was left untouched.

It was done. 

Her locker was totally empty, she had nowhere to hide it. 

It was as if though her fate was sealed, and it wasn’t a very pleasant one until she felt rough hands gripping her own, the phone slowly leaving her grip. 

“I better not go down for this…” Effie uttered, and Cheryl turned around, staring at the woman in pure shock as she dove straight back into the bunk. 

Effie tore her locker open, stuffing the phone deep down into her popcorn bag which she had purchased not long ago from the commissary, before slamming it back shut and taking her place by Cheryl’s side again, standing as still as a statue, not a single muscle moving apart from her lips. 

“If we get away with this, I expect a pretty donation in my account by the end of the week, you understand me?” 

Still whimpering under her breath, Cheryl somehow managed to nod, her gaze fixated to the ground, the fear still not fading. 

Her throat felt tight as the female CO approached their bunk, instructing both of the women to turn around for a pat down. 

The redhead was far too deep down in her own thoughts to even react to the strange hands patting down almost every inch of her, she had barely even registered the woman’s voice stating she was clear before she moved onto Effie, preforming the same procedure.

With a nod of confirmation that all was okay to her colleague, the guards entered their bunk, almost tearing apart their thin, cheap mattresses and pillows, tossing them onto the floor before turning the pillows inside out, checking carefully for any illegal items that someone might have smuggled in. 

A few moments later, Cheryl held her breath, her body going still like she never learned how to move. Effie stood beside her, gritting her teeth as the CO’s tore her locker open, tossing its contents out onto the floor, the popcorn bag spilling upon impact to the ground. 

_please, please, please-_

“Found something!” 

Cheryl’s eyes dropped shut, her knees almost buckling beneath her as she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea washing over her suddenly, her body refusing to accept her fate. 

“It’s not mine!” 

Oh…

The redhead released a dry chuckle of disbelief, practically collapsing against the wall of their cubicle, realising that the voice she had heard came from right in front of her, not behind her…

“All clear, inmates.” The female CO informed, removing her gloves as she approached the other bunk, willing to lend a helping hand in order to control the inmate who’s been caught, the girl trashing around her cubicle in protests, various profanities leaving her throat. 

Wasting no time, Effie turned on her heel, lowering herself to the ground near the scattered popcorn, picking up the bag neatly as to not disturb it’s precious contents. 

“Next time you try and borrow shit, think about it, yeah?” 

“I’m sorry, Effie. If I would known, it would’ve been different.” Cheryl rubbed her eyes before re-opening them, her body and mind still in an obvious stance of shock, “I’ll have your money in your account as soon as I can.”

“Good, because I’ll be needing it. Especially for this stunt that I just pulled. Could’ve got me more time, Blossom. And money certainly is no issue for you, as far as I’ve heard, you’re drowning in it.” 

Nodding, Cheryl began to tidy up, placing the mattress and pillow back onto her bed before helping Effie clean her mess. 

It was the least she could do for the dark haired women. 

She just saved her from getting more time, and Cheryl was sure she couldn’t handle any more. 

Cheryl Blossom was already at her breaking point. 

Spending more than a year here wouldn’t break her, it would destroy her. 

That she was sure of. 

“Effie…what are they going to do with her?” She motioned towards the cussing girl, who was being dragged away by the two guards, who obviously found something in her bunk that wasn’t meant to be within the premises. 

Chuckling, Effie shook her head, “Somewhere you don’t want to be. Being alone sounds nice sometimes, doesn’t it? Away from all this bullshit….it’s not that nice when you get there. Solitary is no joke. There’s stories of some women going insane, lost track of time and began doing things to themselves just to get the attention of guards, who they hoped would get them out and bring them back here. That’s all I have for our bedtime story.” 

With a sigh, the woman threw her blanket onto the bed and sat down, the lights slowly dying one by one before the voice of yet another guard announced that it was lights out. 

Cheryl placed her head against the pillow, taking this time of badly missed silence to reflect upon whatever it was she was thinking about. 

One thing was for sure…she wouldn’t be the same by the time she got out. 

Not even a week here, and Cheryl Blossom was beginning to decay. 

She was like a burning candle, with hopes of being put out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeet. 
> 
> Yeet a comment at me, thank u, love u.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, inmates!


End file.
